


Grey & Green

by Cassandra14



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 16:41:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1046144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassandra14/pseuds/Cassandra14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots focused on Lin & Tenzin.</p><p>Chapter 8: Kya and Lin have a girls night out. This is before and after. (Slightly M)<br/>Chapter 9: Lin's definition of family has always been a bit unconventional. Most people consider blood and marriage to make a family. Lin prefers to think of family as those who care for you and those you care for.<br/>Chapter 10: In the midst of a tavern brawl, a young girl from Republic City's worst borough is surprised by a Tinny who helps put it down. Examples matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Squee

“Katara - ”

“Shhhh!” Whipping around, Katara held a finger to her lips. Obediently, Aang shushed and tiptoed closer to her. She was half-hiding behind a stout post of the verandah where it overlooked a grove of trees.

Tucked against her back, Aang whispered, “Why do I need to shh?”

“That’s why,” she answered, pointing. Aang followed it until the line ran into a hammock strung between a pair of nearby trees. Due to the way the ground sloped downwards from the verandah, he and Katara could just see into the hammock.

Aang beamed. Two people occupied the hammock - one in yellow and orange with arrow tattoos and the other in a green tunic and leggings, her dark hair loose. Lin lay tucked under Tenzin’s left arm; she appeared to be asleep. Balancing a book on a raised knee, Tenzin used his right hand to turn the pages while his left stroked Lin’s side.

“Aww...How long have they been like that?” he murmured.

“Since lunch, I think,” Katara replied. “Tenzin told me Lin has barely been home in the past week except to grab a fresh set of clothes and that she’s been sleeping at the station. You know Toph ordered that crackdown on the Triads.”

“Poor Lin. No wonder she’s exhausted.”

“No wonder,” agreed Katara. She snuggled into her husband as he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s hard to believe they’re all grown up with jobs and their own place in the city.”

“I know, but in some ways, they haven’t really changed...remember how we used to find them curled up together during naptime - regardless of if they started out on separate mats or in different rooms?”

“They were adorable - are adorable, I mean.”

....

Keeping her eyes closed, Lin asked softly, “Your parents are cooing at us, aren’t they?”

“They are,” Tenzin replied. Lin made a disgruntled sound and attempted to burrow deeper into him. Tenzin smiled; her actions would only be interpreted as cute by his parents. And by himself.

Shifting a bit, he started stroking her hair. Lin hummed and unconsciously pressed her head into his touch.

“Go back to sleep, love, you’ve earned the rest.” Resuming reading, he continued his caresses even after Lin had drifted back off to sleep. He ignored his parents as he was far too comfortable and contented to mind their ‘cooing.’

 


	2. Settling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daemon AU. Daemons usually settle by fourteen, fifteen at the latest. Lin is sixteen when the catalyst for Sabrael's settling occurs. Refers to events in my other fic Battle.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Avatar-verse.

When Zephyrus settled shortly after his eleventh birthday, Tenzin and Lin dashed to the Temple's library to research his form. They determined Zephyrus to be a peregrine falcon.

They ran to inform the rest of his family. Zephyrus was admired and fussed over by his parents and their daemons. Bumi and Kya pretended to take little interest but their daemons, raccoon and harp seal respectively, nudged and sniffed Zephyrus until the peregrine "keked" sharply to get them to back off.

A few of the acolytes were startled by Zephyrus' choice; Air Nomads tended to have songbirds, dragonflies, butterflies, or hummingbirds with the occasional owl. Predators of the falcon and hawk variety were rare. Air Nomads were supposed to be gentle, to be peaceful – and no one could mistake Zephyrus for anything other than a keen predator.

Yet, it made a certain amount of sense. The massacre of the Temples haunted the new Air Nation. The first Airbender born since then might be inclined towards a protective, powerful daemon.

.....

At eleven, Katara eyed Sabrael and wondered if she would soon settle.

At twelve, Sokka speculated that Sabrael would settle as a mole like Toph's daemon.

At thirteen, Kya teased that Sabrael would settle as something useless like a moth.

At fourteen, Aang observed Sabrael staying in one form, a fox, for an entire day and thought she might have settled; he was wrong.

At fifteen, Toph demanded of Sabrael when she was going to make a choice.

At sixteen, Bumi half-jokingly suggested to Tenzin that there was something wrong with Lin because Sabrael had yet to settle.

Tenzin punched him.

Later, his best friend inquired why he thought it would be a good idea to punch a United Forces sailor.

Tenzin admitted he hadn't thought, just reacted. Lin told him it was sweet of him to defend her but next time to send Bumi straight to her. She finished bandaging his heavily bruised knuckles and patted his cheek.

"It's a good thing for you your mother has an uncanny knack for knowing when there's trouble," she said, "and stopped Bumi from retaliating."

"I know," he replied. He watched Sabrael, currently a lynx, who was checking Zephyrus for injuries despite the peregrine's squawks of protest.

"It's not as if he was saying anything new," Lin remarked in a far too casual tone. "My teachers think it too and my classmates. I've even heard your mom talking to my mom about it. At school, I'm the only one in my class and the class below me whose daemon hasn't settled and all but two in the class below that."

Tenzin insisted, "There's nothing wrong with you, Lin, or with Sabrael."

.....

"Is he going to be okay?" Lin's trembling voice came from the doorway. Aang's and Katara's heads whipped around. Aang rose, leaving Katara seated on Tenzin's bed. The unconscious young airbender had thick bandages wrapped around his left shoulder and chest. Zephyrus huddled against Tenzin's side with Katara's glaucous gull, Nodons, and Aang's Saranyu, presently a swan, flanking him.

Leaning against the door-frame for support, Lin sported her own bandages, one wrapping the entirety of her left arm. Someone had managed to get her into a loose shirt and pants that weren't bloodstained and torn.

"He's going to be fine, Lin," Aang assured her. As he stepped towards her, Sabrael came out from behind Lin. Aang halted with a lurch.

Sabrael had left the palace in the form of a kestrel, flying alongside Zephyrus.

She was a kestrel no longer.

Instead, Aang stared at a massive jaguar with golden eyes and a red-and-white coat. Except – as he looked closer – the red looked like – blood. Blood spattered over a coat of snow-blinding white.

"What? Is something wrong?" demanded Lin, not realizing to what he was reacting.

From the bed, Katara leaned sideways to find out what was making her husband stare. She gasped. Nodons and Saranyu raised their heads to see and froze.

"What?" repeated Lin, following their gazes, "What's – why are you – it's just Sabrael – what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Aang said, but he couldn't take his eyes off the daemon. Sabrael crouched down as if trying to make herself smaller.

Lin looked from Aang to Katara and back Aang. "Why are you staring?"

"You've settled, haven't you?" asked Saranyu from the bed, addressing Sabrael.

"Yes," answered Sabrael quietly.

"Well – um – congratulations, Lin, Sabrael," offered Aang.

"Can I see Tenzin now?" pleaded Lin.

"Of course, come over here," said Katara. She gestured Lin over to the bed. Lin came with Sabrael padding along at her heels. "But only for a little while, you should still be in bed yourself."

Lin reached out and gripped Tenzin's hand tightly. Sabrael placed her front paws on the bed so she could touch Zephyrus' beak. They both would have stayed that way if not for the dizzy spell which sent them swaying and had Aang guiding them back to their own alcove in the healing wing.

On his return, Aang remarked, "I didn't expect that."

"Neither did I. I mean…Lin's always been a fighter, she's Toph's daughter but – a jaguar? And she's enormous," Katara replied.

"I know. Well, at least she's settled. Even I was beginning to worry," Aang admitted. "Wait till Toph sees –well, not sees, you know what I mean."

"She'll probably be proud of Lin for having such a strong daemon." A low moan from Tenzin focused their attention completely on their son, supplanting any thoughts of Lin and Sabrael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: In my head, daemons retain the ancestral forms of animals which once existed in the Avatar world and became the crossbreed animals in ATLA canon. Some humans do have crossbreeds, they're just much rarer.
> 
> Names:  
> Sabrael - variation on Sabriel, archangel according to some texts, guardian of the 1st Heaven (which is the atmosphere of birds and clouds), one of the chiefs of the virtues  
> Zephyrus - Greek God of the west wind, bringer of spring, the gentlest of the winds  
> Nodons - Celtic deity associated with healing, the sea, hunting, and dogs  
> Saranyu - Hindu goddess of clouds, wife of Surya (chief solar deity), feminine adjective meaning "quick, fleet, nimble" used for water and wind
> 
> Thanks to Wikipedia. And honestly, I went for sound and meaning first so I apologize for these being mostly Western deities.


	3. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no celebration in Republic City.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the Avatar-verse.

There was no celebration in Republic City. There were no cheers, no dancing in the streets, no confetti raining down, and no free-flowing liquor and laughter.

Instead, they fought fires by destroying buildings to create firebreaks and keep the fires from engulfing entire blocks. Instead, they dug through the rubble to rescue family and neighbors and strangers. Instead, they triaged the injured and decided who could be saved and who could not. Instead, schools and dance halls became hospitals and command centers and shelters. Instead, they laid their dead in rows in the grand ballroom and meeting rooms of the Earth Heritage Center.

There lay three dozen school children from a boarding school, their teachers cold beside them. There lay a baker and a butcher who had rushed into a collapsing building to save others, but only added their deaths to the tally. There lay a Triad enforcer who had held back the flames long enough for several street-kids to escape the burning warehouse. There lay the sailors and soldiers of the United Forces who fought despite impossible odds and drowned in the bay. There lay grannies and children, men and women, heiresses and beggars, acolytes and healers and policemen and criminals, bender and non-bender, earth and fire and water and air, side by side.

Once the rescue efforts had been crudely organized, Lin Beifong started surveying her city. She drove or walked or cabled through street after street, borough after borough. She stopped at collapsed building after collapsed building to use her seismic sense. Again and again, she searched for survivors, feeling for heartbeats and movement in piles of broken brick and stone and metal and wood.

She found some. And the digging continued to save those heartbeats.

But all too often, she heard nothing. All too often, she felt nothing but a body-shaped and body-weighted hollow. The digging stopped on those sites, say for the desperate family members or friends hoping against hope, for the living had priority.

Desperate for aid, she cabled personal pleas to Firelord Honora and the Earth Queen. To her own family in Gaoling, she requested trains or ships filled with food and medical supplies and as many healers as they could spare. Upon learning the other colonies had been left virtually untouched, she and President Raiko asked for their assistance. They responded. Train cars bearing the flying boar crest and the Earth Kingdom seal speed to the city and into it on track repaired by Lin's metalbenders. Ships with red sails and ships with hendecagon of the United Republic were guided through the new underwater topography and treacherous sunken remains of the navy, and unloaded at the docks.

She acknowledged the Avatar's return with no more than a "good job," before turning to Kya and explaining the medical situation - that healers, water and not, were dropping at their posts and they needed her skills. To Bumi, she handed over the remainder of the United Forces - General Iroh presumed dead and a fatality rate well over sixty percent - and informed him that, by Presidential order, he was un-retired. After Tenzin checked on the island and his family, she steered him towards coordinating resource distribution and volunteers.

Two weeks after Harmonic Convergence, four days after Korra's return, the Avatar stood in front of a crowd on the steps of City Hall. She spoke about a victory over the darkness, about a new age, about a world of spirits and humans.

The people clapped, but did not cheer. Their faces stayed lined with grief and weariness. Many wore ripped or borrowed or unwashed clothes. Most bore bruises and scratches; slings held broken arms and crutches supported broken legs. All displayed a white armband of mourning.

Glancing to Tenzin, Korra seemed lost as to what else to say. President Raiko took a step towards the podium and faltered. He pressed a hand to his armband, stitched with the name Buttercup in green.

Lin looked from Raiko to Korra to the hushed crowd, breathed deep, and strode forward. When she tapped Korra's shoulder, the Avatar stepped aside and back.

"The Avatar is right when she said that this is a victory. But to me, and to you, it doesn't feel like a victory. How can it?" she proclaimed. "How can it? When we're still counting our dead, when we're still searching - still hoping - to find our loved ones among living rather than the dead, when our homes lie in shambles and ashes? How can it?"

She fingered her own armband, names marked in green and blue and red and yellow thread.

"Why our city? Why - out of all the world - why did this battle come here? Why could it not have happened way out in emptiness of the desert or the poles or the ocean where no one lives - I don't know. We may never know. But it did. And so for us, this doesn't feel like a victory." Lin swallowed hard and continued, "We were faced with an enemy we couldn't defeat. The Avatar could, and did, and for that we are grateful - " Lin turned to look behind her at Korra " - and proud and a great evil has been eliminated for ten thousand years but we can't...we can't rejoice quite yet."

"What we can do, what we must do, is remember that Korra hasn't been the only hero in recent days. I've seen people risk their own lives to pull others from the rubble or burning buildings. I've seen shopkeepers throw open their doors and tell people to take what they need. I've seen healers work until they collapse from exhaustion. I've seen the citizens sharing whatever they have - food, water, medicine, power, shelter - and offering what comfort they could."

Lin clenched her fist on the podium top. She declared, "You should take pride in yourselves, in each other, and in this city. What you have done is no less admirable than what anyone else, even the Avatar, has done because you have helped however you could to fight what evils you could and have done so to the best of your abilities."

As her words reached their ears, the people's spines straightened, their chins raised, and their eyes fixated on the police chief, barely blinking. Across the city, her voice carried to groups huddled and squashed around radios in homes and shops, in makeshift hospital wards and on street corners.

Lin vowed, "We will honor our dead. And then.. _.then, we will rebuild our city and claim victory over the darkness for ourselves._ "

Her promise hung in the air - reverberating in the quiet - until a single pair of hands began to clap. In a rush, the applause spread like wildfire through drought-dry tinder until it roared. Shouts and cries burst forth, whistles splitting the air. Feet pounded the earth. Nor was it limited to the crowd - the noise rose up from every borough of the city.

Lin stepped away from the podium.

"That was a really good speech," said Korra, a bit wonderingly. "You sounded so sure everything was going to be okay there at the end."

To the surprise of everyone, Lin smiled softly, a solemn and heartfelt smile. She remarked, "Haven't you ever heard the old Earth Kingdom saying, Korra - that which is loved endures. From what I've seen, I know we're going to be okay."

 


	4. Ink Stains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenzin likes to draw. Lin finds something new for him to draw on. Hint: It’s not paper.

Lin never intended to buy them.

She had entered the shop to purchase a new sketchbook for Tenzin, to be given to him immediately, and perhaps a set of colored pencils for his birthday, a month away.

The sketchbook in hand, she paused at a display of handsome brushes, golden wood with dark tips. Judging from the price, they were quality calligraphy brushes. Tenzin didn’t practice calligraphy, at least not more than enough to write a good hand; she should have moved on to the counter to make her purchase.

Instead, the soft glow of the wood enticed her into picking one up and testing the bristles against her skin. Bending, the tip glided across her palm with the merest tickle. It sent a shiver through her and, without her consent, her imagination jumped to the idea of what it would feel like against the rest of her skin...especially if she wasn’t the one holding the brush and Tenzin was.

Lin shuddered and then glanced about to check if anyone had noticed her reaction. As the proprietor was helping the only other customer select a paper design for invitations, she doubted it.

She dithered for a moment, clutching the brush.

“Why not?” Lin muttered. She replaced the brush in the display stand and walked over to the counter to wait for the proprietor to finish with his current customer.

Once he did, he solicited, “How may I help you, Miss?”

“This sketchbook and a set of those brushes, please,” replied Lin, laying the sketchbook on the counter and pointing to the display.

“One moment please,” he said. Lifting up a section of the counter, he stepped into the store front and headed for the display. He returned a minute later with a wooden box. When he was back behind the counter, he set the box down and opened it to reveal a row of brushes.

“These are mixed-hair brushes of wolf and goat-sheep hair, supple yet capable of producing a strong line. As you can see, the set includes five brushes, a brush rest, and everything you need to mix the ink,” he explained as he gestured. “It’s a very nice set, if I do say so myself. Would you like to test the brushes to see if they suit you?”

“No...it’s for a friend,” Lin said and tried not to blush.

“Ah, I see. Well, if your friend finds them not to their satisfaction, please return and I will exchange them,” declared the shopkeeper. “Although, I have personally found these to be quite pleasant to most anyone’s hand. What color ink would you prefer?”

“Does it only come with one ink stick?” asked Lin.

“It does, Miss.”

“Then I’d like to add more colors. Black to start with but – do you have a selection I could see?”

The shopkeeper leaned left and lifted a tray from beneath the counter. “Would any of these suit?”

“Maybe.” Lin examined the colors. She wet her lips and asked, “Do these inks stain?”

“I’m sorry, Miss?”

Thinking quickly, Lin lied, “My friend sometimes gets distracted and he, he gets ink on himself or his clothes. I was hoping I could find a type of ink which would be easily washed off with soap and water.”

She could feel heat rising to her cheeks.

“These will do, Miss. He might require a couple of scrubbings to remove it, but it will certainly come off without too much trouble,” the shopkeeper answered.

“That’s good, and I’ll take this blue, this green, and this red.” Lin indicated a deep ocean blue, a forest green, and a brick red.

“Very good, Miss.” He picked out the proper sticks, adding a black, and was able to fit them all inside the brushes’ case.  Closing the case, he asked, “Is there anything else?”

“No, just that and the sketchbook.”

He told her the total and inquired, “Would you like these wrapped? No charge.”

“Only the brushes please.” He nodded and whisked the box away to the back counter. As Lin counted the money from her belt purse, he did up the set in blue cloth and a white ribbon.

Lin handed him the money; he presented her with the set and the sketchbook.

“Thank you,” said Lin.

“You’re very welcome and thank you. Please come again,” he replied with bob of his head and shoulders in an abbreviated bow. “I wish you a lovely evening.”

“And the same to you.” Lin exited the shop and hurried towards home. She needed to arrive home before Tenzin so she could hide his present. 

...........

“Here.” Standing in front of him, Lin handed Tenzin a parcel wrapped in blue cloth with a white ribbon. They had just returned from his birthday dinner on the island with their parents and Uncle Sokka. Lin had insisted he go sit on the bed while she retrieved something from the living room. Based on the sounds, he guessed the box had been hidden behind her guqin and its stack of sheet music – which he never touched.

“You already gave me your presents,” he reminded her, a bit confused. “The book I wanted and new boots.”  

Lin’s cheeks reddened and she fidgeted.

“Well...I thought this present would be better given in private.”

“Oh?” He eyed the box with greater interest. Hefting it, he noted it wasn’t heavy for its size. Shaking it gently, he didn’t hear any sliding or moving parts. No ideas of its contents came to him.

“Just open it,” Lin commanded, exasperated and rolling her eyes.

Tenzin tugged on the loose end of ribbon and drew it off before unfolding the wrappings. He opened the box to reveal the brushes, ink sticks, and accoutrements neatly arranged in their own compartments.

“A calligraphy kit?” he asked. “How is that - why didn’t you want our family to see this?”

To his surprise, she turned her back to him. She seemed to be fiddling with something on the front of her robes.

“Lin?” he queried.

Twisting her head to look at him over her shoulder, she let her robes slip down, exposing her back to him, naked skin broken only by her breastband. The sash at her waist kept her robes from falling all the way off.

“Because I wasn’t intending for you to use those brushes on paper.”

Tenzin’s breath caught. Tentatively, he reached out and traced the curve of her shoulder blade with a finger. He felt and saw the shiver produced; an answering thrill raced through him. Fantastic designs bloomed across her skin, lines and curves and the gleam of wet ink against a living, breathing canvas _of Lin’s_ body – his heart rate soared, blood rushing in his veins.

He dropped the case on the bedspread, stood, tugged Lin around, and kissed her.  

When they broke for air, Lin asked, “I take it you like the idea?” She looked rather pleased with herself.

“I do.” Tenzin kissed her again, hard and deep. In a low growl, he promised, “We’ll test it later.”

As he maneuvered them onto the bed, Lin suggested, “You should probably move your gift somewhere else.”

Tenzin paused and reverently removed the case to the bedside table before kneeling above her and getting rid of the pesky sash still holding her robes onto her body.

 


	5. Trust

Lin’s fingers clenched on his thigh as they kissed, Lin’s body arching as her head fell back against his shoulder. Her other arm twisted to latch onto his neck.

Nestled between his spread legs, she moaned when he switched from her lips to her throat. Tenzin kept his nips gentle - but only for the sake of appearances.

Toph might be blind, but his parents and Uncle Sokka would certainly notice if Lin turned up with love-bites at dinner. Her tunic collar wouldn’t hide them.

He pressed a last kiss to her skin and raised his head. Lin glared at him.

“Why’d you stop?” she grumbled.

“You’re supposed to be studying,” Tenzin replied. Removing a hand from her stomach, he gestured at the books and notebook on the ground beside them. “Final exams, remember?”

Lin scrunched her nose. “But history is boring and this - ” She brushed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “This is much more fun.”

“You just have to pass these exams and you can graduate and never take another exam,” he reminded her.

“Wrong. Police academy has exams,” Lin corrected. She sighed and acceded, “I suppose it would be shame to lose my spot in the class rankings. Fine. Study it is.”

“Good girl.”

Lin cuffed his knee, hard, for that remark. Reaching over his leg, she retrieved her primary textbook and offered it to him.

“Here, make yourself useful and quiz me,” she ordered. With a wicked grin, she added, “Reward system - five right answers gets me a kiss. Twenty-five means one piece of clothing removed from either of us - my choice.”

“Deal.” Tenzin opened to the first bookmarked page.  “Name the major dynastic eras of Ba Sing Se and give defining characteristics of each.”

In the welcome shade of a secluded grove, they worked their way through her textbook as the afternoon wore on. The berry bushes growing wild amongst the lychee and persimmon trees screened them from casual view. Sweet scent from the blossoming plants filled the air.

Tenzin lost his mantle and shirt. Lin removed her own tunic to leave her in her breast-wrap which covered her ribcage but exposed her toned abdomen and shoulders. Skin touching skin, and hands ghosting caresses along arms, their concentration on dry data wavered.

On the eighty-fifth right question, they caved. Tenzin cupped her breasts through the wrap, Lin’s nails scrabbled along the nape of his neck. Their breathing quickened to pants and gasps.

Neither of them noticed the inquisitive acolyte. Having heard odd sounds while wandering in contemplation through the grove, she investigated. Upon shoving aside branches and peeking into the grove, the acolyte hastily realized her intrusion and retreated.

.....

Unfortunately, she happened to be rather a gossip. More unfortunately for the young couple, she happened to blab her chance observation to another acolyte while Katara happened to be in hearing range. Most unfortunately, under questioning from Katara, she yielded up the details of Lin and Tenzin both being shirtless and very - ah - passionately embracing.

.....

When Tenzin and Lin returned, fully clothed, to the Temple proper for dinner, their parents and Sokka waited for them. Toph, Aang, and Katara blocked the steps up to the verandah. Propped against a post at the top, Sokka waved cheerily. With his ears scarlet, Aang looked anywhere but at them. Toph and Katara flanked the Avatar, Katara’s arms crossed and her foot tapping while Toph had fists planted on her hips and head cocked.

“This _can’t_ be good,” muttered Lin. She switched her satchel from right hand to left. Then, she and Tenzin linked hands.

“There you are,” Katara exclaimed. Her eyes narrowed. “What have you been doing all afternoon?”

“Studying,” replied Lin, swinging the satchel for emphasis.

“Really?” drawled Toph, “Cause Katara overheard one of the acolytes saying she’d seen you two canoodling in the fruit orchard half-dressed and on the fast track to being no-dressed?”

Tenzin’s entire head turned as red as his father’s ears. Lin blushed as well.

“I’ll take your rocketing heartbeats as a yes,” declared Toph.

“Tenzin, Lin - what were you _thinking_?” Katara demanded. “You know you’re too young to do - to do any of that stuff!”

“What the flameo did I tell you Lin?” Toph shouted. “And you - Airboy - what the flameo do you think you’re doing with my daughter?”

Katara opened her mouth for a second attack, but Tenzin beat her to the punch.

“Mother, Aunt Toph, stop.”

“What - ” “You tell - ”

“Stop!” interrupted Lin this time. Both Katara and Toph were taken aback. Aang finally managed to look at the couple. Sokka grinned.

“Stop,” Lin repeated. She glanced at Tenzin; he squeezed her hand. Widening her stance, she continued, “Stop yelling at us like we’re five and got into fight with Bumi and Kya.”

“If you want to talk about this, we can _talk_ ,” Tenzin declared, his posture rigid. “Inside, in private, not out here.”

“Sweetheart,” Aang said, laying a hand on Katara’s elbow, “I think we should move this into the sitting room.” Katara scowled but nodded. They turned to go up the steps. Toph humphed and followed them inside.

Lin and Tenzin took a deep breath before closing the distance and mounting the steps. At the top, Sokka straighten and fell in on Lin’s left.

“You’re in so much trouble,” he teased. “Wish I had a bag of fire flakes, this’ll be as good as the theatre - OW!”

He hopped on one foot. Lin’s satchel had slammed into his nearest leg.

“You know, you should be nicer to your ally,” he whined.

“Our ally?” asked Tenzin.

“Me. Considering how your parents are reacting, you could use one.”

“It’s not really any of their business,” groused Lin.

Sokka laughed. “Good luck convincing them of that.”

When they entered the sitting room, the three adults were clumped together. Toph and Katara seemed a little calmer. Selecting an armchair on the edge of the seating area, Sokka perched an ankle on the other knee and settled in comfortably.

“Why don’t we sit down and discuss this?” suggested Aang. Lin and Tenzin took one sofa, still holding hands and with barely three inches between them. Katara and Aang seated themselves on the opposite couch, Toph perching on the armrest.

Despite a pinked complexion, Aang began, “Lin, Tenzin…please try to understand…it’s not that we disapprove of your...romantic relationship...it’s just that - well - ”

“We don’t approve of you fucking,” blurted Toph. “Which come to think of it - _have_ you fucked?”

Lin glared at her mother. Tenzin’s gaze dropped to the floor.

“You have, haven’t you?” Katara challenged them.

“And if we have - we’re both adults. It’s our decision,” asserted Lin. She refused to hang her head, pale green eyes flashing as she spoke. Tenzin refocused on his parents and Toph, obviously nervous but overcoming his embarrassment.

“You’re _children!_ ” retorted Katara. “You have no business - no business - doing _that_.”

“Mother, I’m nearly nineteen. Lin is seventeen and a half,” Tenzin reminded everyone. “Legally, by colony law, we’re both adults. Laws, by the way, which the four of you had input in writing.”

Katara threw up her hands and made incoherent noises.

“Physical intimacy is a very...special thing,” Aang said. “You may be adults legally, but you’re still very young and this isn’t something you should do without thinking about the consequences.”

“Really, we’d rather you wait until you’re married or at least engaged,” snapped Katara, getting her voice back.

“I thought you had more sense than this, Lin,” added Toph with a snort. “Don’t tell me you let Airboy here and your hormones ruin your common sense.”

Lin’s grip on Tenzin’s hand became painful. Her face hardened, lips thinning. Tenzin cast a worried glance in her direction.

“You’re one to talk, Mother,” she muttered.

“Sorry, didn’t quite catch that,” Toph sing-songed.

Feeling Lin vibrating with anger, Tenzin tried to intervene, “Maybe we should take a break - ”

“I said ‘you’re one to talk, Mother.’”

“What is that supposed to mean?” demanded Toph. She leapt off the armrest.

“What do you think? You’re one to lecture me on having sex when at least I choose someone I’ve known for more than a couple of days and actually have a relationship with _outside_ bars and the bedroom,” Lin snapped, jumping to her feet as well.

“Oi! What the flameo gives you the right- ”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mother, you’re the great Toph Beifong and nothing you do is wrong and the same rules don’t apply to you _and_ to me,” Lin sneered.

“My choices are my choices, I’m an adult, they don’t have anything to do with you!”

“They do when you get pregnant by someone you don’t care about or trust enough to even tell him he’s got a child! Me being that child!” shrieked Lin, her voice cracking.

Tenzin got to his feet. Letting go of Lin’s hand, he gripped her shoulders. She was shaking.

He whispered, “Breathe, Lin. Try to calm down, okay?” He felt her attempt to bring her breathing under control.

“Lin! Toph!” shouted Katara. “That’s enough!”

“No, it’s not,” Lin retorted, turning to Katara. “It’s a bit hypocritical for you and Aang to be scolding us when I _know_ you two didn’t wait until you were engaged, let alone married.”

Tenzin choked. Lin ignored him.

“We’re not stupid!” she threw out. “We didn’t just decide one day that hey - this sounds like fun - let’s fuck.”

Their parents stared at them with gaping mouths. Lin had managed to stun them into silence.

Dropping his left hand to the small of Lin’s back and taking both her hands in his right, Tenzin rubbed her soothingly. He waited until her tremors subsided before breaking the silence.

In a surprisingly steady tone, he spoke, “As Lin said, we’re not idiots. We discussed this, we made a decision together, and, unless you believe we’re hurting each other, I think this should be a private matter between us.”

“Yeah - well, what if Lin ends up pregnant?” Toph questioned scornfully. “Did you discuss _that_?”

Katara nodded in agreement with Toph, leveling a scowl at the couple. Aang buried his head in his hands with a whimper.

Lin scoffed. “I’ve been taking woman’s tea for the past six months. I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“And if it happened,” chimed in Tenzin, “we would both take responsibility for the child.”

“Which means what? You’ll get married and raise the child together?” queried Katara.

“I’m not sure about marriage,” Lin admitted. The two looked at each other.

“Neither am I, but we’d never give up our child -” started Tenzin.

“- And we’d figure it out. Together,” Lin finished.

“Well I um...it sounds like you _have_ thought about this,” Aang conceded. He shrugged his shoulders at the daggers Katara glared at him and, fortunately, he was on the opposite side of the couch from Toph so he avoided being punched.

“Yes, we have,” Tenzin stated.

“Hold up - hold up just one second,” drawled Toph. She tilted her head and pointed roughly in Lin’s direction; her finger actually wound up leading to Tenzin. “You said you’ve been taking the tea for SIX months.”

“Yeah?” This caught Aang’s and Katara’s attention.   

“You’ve only been together FOUR months!” Toph exclaimed.

“That’s right,” added Katara, “only four months.”

Tenzin and Lin exchanged a confused look. In his armchair, Sokka rubbed his hands together. He’d watched the preceding arguments like a spectator at an Earth Rumble match, whispering ooooh’s and comments too quietly to be heard by anyone else.

“We’ve been together ten months,” said Tenzin, “not four.”

“No - that’s not possible,” from Katara.

“We’d have known - I’d have - no way you - ”  from Toph.

“Huh? What? You - ” from Aang.

“Ten months,” confirmed Lin.

“Wait, that’d put it...right around…” Aang scratched his head.

“My birthday,” offered Tenzin. He chanced a small smile. “Well, we’ve decided to call my birthday our official anniversary since neither of us is really sure when we crossed the line from friendship into something more.”

“One less date to remember,” muttered Lin. Tenzin’s smile broadened a bit.

“Oh no, no, no, and no,” broke in Toph. “You two did not manage to pull the sack over my head for **six months**. Twinkletoes and Sugar Queen here yes -”

Aang and Katara squawked. Waving their protests aside, Toph continued,“But no way you hid this from me. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“We weren’t exactly _hiding_ it,” declared Tenzin. “We just didn’t…I don’t know...advertise it.”

“You’ve been really busy too,” Lin reminded Toph. “What with the academy opening last fall and overseeing its first class plus your normal work.”

“Also - sky bison, glider?” suggested Sokka. “Not hard to sneak in and out, eh Tenzin?”

“Not helpful, Uncle,” Tenzin hissed.

“How long,” Katara began in a pitched tone. She stopped, sighed, and restarted in a more reasonable voice. “How long have you two been...ahh...physically intimate?”

Yet another quick look flashed between the young couple. Lin answered, “A little less than two months.”

The healer in Katara prompted her to ask Lin. “Have you...before you started the tea and before...did you check with a healer? To make sure you got the right dosage and...um...any other information?”

Lin nodded, flushing now with embarrassment rather than anger. “I did.”

“Well, good,” replied Katara.

No one seemed to know what to say after that. Given their kids’ reactions, embarrassed but not ashamed, Aang, Katara, and Toph were internally debating if they could say or do anything to discourage the couple.  

Eventually, it was Sokka who suggested, “Lin, Tenzin, why don’t you give us a few minutes?”

They didn’t hesitate. They cleared the room in seconds.

“Hey!” exclaimed Toph. “What’d you do that for?”

“Because we need to talk before anyone says anything more they might regret - like forbidding them to be together alone,” said Sokka. “Or telling them they have to go back to being just friends? And don’t tell me you guys aren’t thinking of it.”

“We can’t let them - ” Katara started.

“Why not?” countered Sokka. “Lin was right, Katara. You and Aang weren’t that much older, than they are and I was Tenzin’s age. Toph, you and me have slept with multiple people  who we knew a ocean less well than those two know each other and who we didn’t marry.”

“But they’re -” Aang protested, trying to come up with a reason. “They’re - ”

“Exactly. If it looked like they were going to hurt themselves, in any way, or were being irresponsible or hadn’t thought this through - you know I’d object and I agree that they need to stop,” Sokka assured them.

He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “But I don’t see that. They’ve never been the type to pull stupid stunts and they’re both pretty mature for their age. Aang, you’ve had Tenzin helping out in Temple business for the past two years and he’s always been conscious of his responsibilities as its future leader and one of two Airbenders. Toph, Lin’s been making her own lunch and often dinner, getting herself to and from school and activities, keeping herself in the top five at school, and dealing with the stress of never knowing if her mom’s coming home for _years_. Add in the events of last summer, the assassination attempt...”

“Are you saying _we_ forced them to grow up too fast?” demanded Toph, defensive. On the other hand, Aang slumped forwards in silent acknowledgement of the truth in Sokka's statements.

“No...maybe?” Sokka replied. He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I guess I am. I’m not saying it’s anyone’s fault. I’m not sure it could have been helped, but you can’t argue that they’re more mature than most people at their age.”

“That doesn’t mean we should condone this,” protested Katara, although it lacked her earlier strength of conviction. “I’d say the same thing if this involved Kya or Bumi, especially if they were Lin’s age. We _did_ say the same thing.”

“Bumi and Kya are neither Tenzin nor Lin. Let’s be honest, Katara. Bumi and Kya were not as responsible at seventeen as Lin is.” Sokka scrubbed his face. “Lin and Tenzin are much... steadier. And I don’t think anyone in this room would disagree that they do truly care about each other. Each of them isn’t bringing some stranger into our lives, someone we don’t know, someone they’ve only known a short while, or some random classmate or acolyte they’ve just fallen madly in love with. They’ve been best friends their entire lives.”

“I know,” Aang admitted softly, “I know. Still, these are our children, Sokka. It’s hard to…to...I remember taking Tenzin on his very first glider ride. Lin, I...I remember teaching her to play cards. I can’t believe…”

“They aren’t kids anymore,” Toph finished the thought. She sank onto the couch beside Katara who traded indignation for melancholy. Katara leaned against Aang, and he wrapped an arm about her shoulders to pull her close.

“No, they’re not,” Sokka agreed. He gulped and pressed on, “I think, maybe, we’re going to have to trust them - trust that they’ve made the right choices for the right reasons - and accept their relationship as it stands - all of it.”

“What if we don’t?” asked Toph. “What if we tried, asked them not to -”

Shaking his head, Sokka chuckled. “It wouldn’t work. Lin’s as headstrong as you Toph and Tenzin’s got his own stubborn streak. It’ll only drive them closer _and_ drive a wedge between them and whoever tries to separate them.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” conceded Aang. To Katara, he asked, “So we trust them?”

After a long moment, Katara nodded. “We trust them.”

“Huh - well, we know we raised them right, so okay, we trust them,” declared Toph.

“Great.” Sokka said, “I’ll go get them.”

As soon as he left, Toph remarked, “Which doesn’t mean we can’t torment them.” She smirked. “Right?”

Aang and Katara shared a look. Evil grins spread across their faces.

“Serve them right for not telling us they were ‘something more’ for six months,” commented Katara. “How did they manage to hide it anyways, especially since they said they weren’t trying to?”

“My guess...we probably just figured whatever we saw was friendship - I mean - they’ve _never_ been averse to hugging or whatever and they’ve always spent a lot of time together,” speculated Aang. He reached over Katara to tap Toph’s knee. “So, you got any ideas?”

“Plenty,” answered Toph with a cackle. Hearing Sokka, Lin, and Tenzin return, she murmured, “We’ll scheme after dinner. I think better on a full stomach.”

“Did someone say dinner?” asked Sokka, attentive to any mention of food or eating. The resulting laughter made him, Tenzin, and Lin _very_ nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Birthday request for my beta justcallmehermione. Happy Birthday!


	6. The Guide Flashfic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenzin wishes Lin wasn't half a world away.

He should be relieved. He should.

He finally admits he couldn’t reach the spirit world. Shouldn’t he have felt some relief from carrying that secret for so many years?

He didn’t.

His daughter, his _twelve-year-old_ daughter, must take his place.

The Spirit World is dangerous.

Now, now, from what Korra has said even more so.

But there’s no choice because he _failed_.

Bumi was right.

He’s a disappointment - to their father, to his wife, to his children, to the Avatar, to his people, and to the world.

He’s jealous of his own daughter. He feels sick about it. Jealous even while being terrified for her and ashamed of his own inadequacy.

_Why?_

_What did I do wrong?_

_What’s wrong with me?_

Abruptly, achingly, he wants Lin.

Because she knew.

Because when he had told her, after a three-day fast and meditation session which failed like every other time, she hadn’t looked at him the way his brother and sister and wife and children and Avatar were looking at him - as if there was something shamefully defective about him.

She hadn’t said he was a failure. Or a disappointment. Hadn’t told him to work harder or that he’d get it next time.

~

_“I feel like I’m a failure,” he told her, keeping his eyes fixed on the dirt. He was secluded away in the hills above the city. Lin had come, with Oogi, to bring him home as prearranged._

_She pinched him. Hard enough to make him yelp._

_“Why did you do that?”_

_“Do you think I’m an idiot?”_

_“No, of course not.”_

_“Then why do you think I would hang out with a failure? Let alone spend ten years with one? Set up house with one?”_

_“I…”_

_“So what you can’t reach the spirit world? Big deal. Neither can I nor anyone else in the world besides your father. Ninety percent of earthbenders can’t metalbend - that doesn’t make them failures! Or water-benders who can’t heal or firebenders who can’t wield lightning! What about non-benders, all those acolytes, are they greater failures?”_

_“It’s different, I should -”_

_“No, it’s not. You can’t do one specific thing. What about everything else you can do? Everything else you’ve accomplished - your work with the Temple and the Council? You’re going to focus on ONE thing you can’t do and call yourself a failure when you have a lifetime of things you CAN DO and HAVE DONE?”_

_“I…I have to, my father -”_

_“Your father expects too much sometimes. He had training from real Airbending monks AND he’s the Avatar. You’ve had whatever bits and pieces an eleven-year-old remembered. The monks your father knew never dealt with the pressures you’ve had to deal with. Stop being so hard on yourself for not being the perfect Airbender monk.”_

_Lin stepped close, cupping his cheek in her hand._

_“I’m only going to say this once - you’re not a failure. I don’t know anyone who tries as hard to be good as you do, anyone else who tries to make everyone happy and do the best by the world that they can and to be kind as you do. And you’ve succeed far more times than not. Maybe you’ll reach the Spirit World one day, maybe you won’t. Whether you master this one ability or not doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change who you are or why I love you or how much I love you.”_

_She stood on tiptoe, sliding her hand from his cheek to wrap her arm around his neck as her other arm slipped about his waist. Encircling her with his own arms, he closed his eyes and turned his face into her hair. He held her for a long time._

_“Thank you…thank you, I needed to hear that,” he murmured at last, loosening the embrace. Lin sank onto her heels but didn’t move to leave the circle of his arms._

_“I know.” She smiled, a soft curve of her lips she reserved for him. “Come home with me?”_

_He nodded; Lin led him to Oogi and they flew back to the city._

~

He wants her beside him today.

Wants her to tell him he’s being stupid and nobody’s perfect.

Wants her to ground him with a hand on his shoulder or forearm, or just by being a steadfast presence at his side.

Wants her to remind him that what you do with your abilities is more important than what abilities you have.

He wraps himself in the memory of her words - spoken over two decades ago - and pretends it’s comfort enough.


	7. Seventy-Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompt: Write the death of either Lin or Tenzin. Describe how the survivor is/isn’t able to cope with it.

The world beyond the island Temple whirled faster and faster. New technologies sprang up and died to be replaced by the next generation of innovations. Yet, the island remained a sanctuary, a place apart from the hectic pace of modernity and progress.

They were old now, wrinkled and lined with over a century of time. Two old friends who spent their days sipping tea, and dozing on the veranda in fair weather and in the library in bad.

Tenzin’s great-grandchildren would plop themselves at their feet and demand stories of Avatar Aang and Master Katara, of the Blind Bandit and the Fire Prince. They didn’t mind if their storytellers sometimes called them by the wrong name - Kya, Rohan, or Sokka.

On occasion, historians and journalists and writers would visit the island to speak with the pair. They would request stories too - for their biographies and research and articles - stories from those who knew Avatar Aang, and his closest friends and family, best. They would walk away with liberal amounts of red ink correcting misconceptions and misunderstandings.

But other than those visits, Tenzin and Lin rarely interacted with the outside world. The leadership of the Air Nation had been passed to Jinora fifteen years previous; twenty-odd Airbenders lived in the world. Republic City flourished on the horizon; Beifong principles and methods still forming the backbone of the police department but updated to fit the new times.

Each afternoon, weather permitting, they took a turn in the garden. They walked slow, an amble in careful measured steps replacing the brisk, long strides they had once preferred. Lin leaned on a cane; her extensive history of injuries leaving her with aching joints and muscles.

Halfway along the path, a peach tree sheltered a bench.

One summer day, Tenzin and Lin settled onto it. They watched the breeze rippling the flowers and leaves of the garden about them.

“It’s a nice day,” remarked Tenzin.

Lin nodded. “It is.”

She tilted her face upwards, feeling the warm rays of the sun where it filtered through the leaves. Her hand and Tenzin’s intertwined.

~~~~~

The following morning, Jinora wiped tears from her eyes and knocked on her father’s bedroom door.

“Come in,” he called.

She entered to find him on the window seat, looking out into the garden. Going to him, she sank onto the cushion and took his hands.

“Dad…it’s…oh…it’s Aunt Lin…she…” Jinora dropped her gaze to her lap and attempted to swallow her sobs.

Tenzin squeezed her hands. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I think…I knew.”

Jinora looked up. A couple of tears slipped down her father’s cheeks, but he didn’t seem distressed.

“It’s okay,” he repeated, voice gentle and soft. “She lived a full life and Lin, she probably decided it was time, before she lost control of her mind and body, time to see her mother and Uncle Sokka and the rest of the family again.”

Jinora sniffed. “That would be Aunt Lin.” She touched her father’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he promised.

~~~~~

Except, as days and then weeks elapsed since Lin’s passing, he wasn’t. Jinora noticed he started forgetting more and more. He forgot her name, and her siblings’ names, which he never had before.  He got lost in his own Temple, his home from birth. He forgot how to tie knots or work buttons. He was plagued by small hallucinations and his moods fluctuated independent of events around him. Fatigue and pain increasingly shortened his walks and curtained his desire to leave his room, or even his bed.

At least twice a day, he would ask her when Bumi was going to visit or if Uncle Sokka was coming to dinner or where Lin was. Jinora never knew how to answer him. She lost track of how many times she found him sitting with two cups of tea, one drunk and one full fixed how Lin had taken it.

When her mother had died, fifteen years ago, her father had grieved deeply, but Jinora remembered how Kya and Lin had both been there to support him through it along with her and her siblings. Shortly thereafter, Lin had tired of the noise and bustle of city; Tenzin and Jinora had invited her to move to island and she accepted. Kya’s passing six years ago had been difficult, leaving her father and Lin as the last children of her grandfather’s group still living. Now, Jinora realized they had been anchoring each other…and without Lin, without his best friend, her father was fading.  

When the trees began putting forth gold and red and orange raiment, Jinora requested that her siblings and their partners, their descendents, and her own offspring return to Air Temple Island. She sent notice to Korra as well. They came, grave and anxious over this second summons in less than three months.

To Jinora’s surprise and delight, her father recovered much of his former self in their presence. He remembered almost everyone’s name almost all the time. He preferred to talk about the past of fifty or more years ago, but his speech was clear and coherent. The pain and fatigue retreated, allowing him to enjoy the Temple grounds again with his grand- and great-grandchildren.

A few days into the gathering, the photo albums and family treasures were brought out. Tenzin presided over them, telling story after story - this bracelet of Pema’s, this sword of Sokka’s, this chipped cup from Ikki, this funny photograph of his grandchildren.

When the great-grandchildren were ushered off to bed, Tenzin excused himself. Jinora followed him to the bench in the garden, a shawl in her hands. The full moon and bright stars provided enough light to guide her.

Sitting beside him, Jinora draped the shawl over his shoulders.

“You’ll get cold,” she chided.

“Thank you,” her father replied. They sat in silence for long minutes.

“You’re saying goodbye, aren’t you?” she asked finally, voice cracking. “You’re leaving us.”

“I love you. I love all of you. Please…please don’t think of it as leaving you,” he pleaded. “But I think…I think it’s time…the world has moved on…and I’m the last…and I miss…I miss them. I miss the rest of my family, my parents…Bumi and Kya…your mother…Lin. And I know…I know if I stay…my mind, my body…I know I’m not okay, sweetheart.”

Jinora squeezed her eyes closed and laid her head on her father’s shoulder. With a shuddering breath, she said, “I love you.”

“I love you too, so very much, you and your siblings and your children and their children, you’ve been the joy of my life,” he murmured.

They stayed there until Ikki’s eldest, with a personality reminiscent of Katara, appeared to scold them for being outside in the cold and dark and to herd them inside for a warming cup of tea before bed.

~~~~~

Several days later, after the memorial, one of her children mentioned an odd coincidence to Jinora. Tenzin and Lin had been born one year and seventy-seven days apart. Tenzin had outlived Lin for seventy-seven days exactly.

Jinora simply smiled and thought it fitting.


	8. Kya's Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kya and Lin have a girls night out. This is before and after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Inclining towards M, but nothing truly M.

Upon his arrival home, Tenzin saw Lin's armor already in the entry closet. Adding his cloak and staff to its contents, he tugged off his boots before walking into the combined living area and kitchen. No Lin in sight.

"Lin?"

"In here," came the reply, a bit muffled from traveling through the bedroom door. Tenzin nodded to himself; she had probably just gotten home and was changing out of her uniform.

"Do you want me to start dinner?" he called.

Opening the door, Lin poked her head out. "It's up to you - I'm going out with Kya, remember?"

"Ah - now I do," he said. "When and where are you meeting her?"

"At the ferry in about an hour," answered Lin. She pulled her head back into the bedroom and shut the door.

Deciding against begining dinner, Tenzin poured himself a glass of juice and looked around for his sketchbook. After a brief search, he recalled leaving it on the dresser.

He rapped on the bedroom door. "Lin, can I come in?"

"No."

Tenzin sighed. "Then could I have my sketchbook? It should be on the top of the dresser?"

A few seconds later, the door cracked open enough to slide the sketchbook through.

"Thank you." By the time Lin emerged from the bedroom, Tenzin had doodled two pages and was pondering what to make for his supper. A stir-fry sounded good and, since Lin was dining out, he could omit mushrooms and add brussel sprouts.

Such thoughts were promptly driven from his head upon seeing Lin at the bedroom door. She was wearing  _the dress_  with  _the boots_.

_The dress_  meant a burgundy red silk creation which somehow managed to be both perfectly respectable and unfairly provocative. Sleeveless, _the dress_ clung to Lin above before cascading over her hips and down her long legs. The high collar tempted rather than forbade, especially with a small teardrop of skin peeking through a cutout below. Stiffened panels made the dress hug her trim waist and showed off her curves. Silver embroidery winked at the hemline, waist, shoulders, and collar. Paired with leggings,  _the boots_ embraced her feet and calves, black leather visible through the slits in the skirt.

As if that wasn't enough to drive him insane, Lin had done something to her eyes which made them seem larger and their green more brilliant. Her lips, a shade or two red darker than normal, reminded him of how they looked after a lengthy kissing session. She'd drawn her hair loosely back from her face; his hands itched to find the clip and hairpins holding it prisoner and free it.

Without conscious direction, his body picked itself up from the kitchen table and started moving towards her.

"This is why you weren't allowed in," Lin informed him as he halted close enough to reach out and gently run a stray lock between his fingers. "I don't want to be late."

"You're beautiful, Lin." Curling his right hand, he brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. Lin pressed into them for a moment before gliding away and around him. She headed for the front door. Tenzin followed her.

"Any chance I could come along?" he pleaded. Lin shook her head.

"Sorry, Kya insisted she wanted a girls' night," she said, opening the closet for outerwear.

"Hmm…what are you planning to do?" asked Tenzin. Lin settled on a cape-like piece in charcoal grey with belled sleeves. Taking it from her, Tenzin held it as she slipped into it. As she swept up her hair to keep it from getting caught, the scent of sandalwood and amber washed over Tenzin. He barely restrained himself from burying his face in her hair.

"Dinner and dancing, or that's what Kya wanted," Lin replied. Turning, she took in Tenzin's pout and rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't wait up."

"All right," he said. "Have fun."

"That's the idea. Goodnight, Tez." She took two steps and placed her hand on the doorknob.

"I don't even get a kiss?" he complained, still trailing her.

"Oh for -" Lin spun about, rose up, cupped his face, and planted a kiss on him. Deepening the kiss immediately, Tenzin took advantage and wrapped his arms around her waist to prolong the kiss. She didn't seem to mind as her arms came up to hold onto him.

Eventually though, she broke the kiss and pushed at his shoulders so that he stepped back.

"Enough, I have to go," Lin said. "I'll try to be quiet when I come in."

She darted out the door.

Tenzin decided brussel sprouts were poor compensation for an evening alone. Especially with Lin dressed like that.

* * *

Lin dumped Kya on the sofa. "There's a blanket and a better pillow in the end table. I'll go get you something to sleep in."

"Thanks," The waterbender replied. "That was fun."

"It was," Lin agreed.

Heading for the bedroom, Lin yawned and rolled her shoulders, the burgundy silk whispering across her skin. She kept her footsteps soft. Dinner, drinks, and dancing had kept them out past midnight; hopefully, they wouldn't have woken Tenzin.

"Lin?" The sleepy murmur as she slipped into the bedroom meant they had failed. Tenzin's shadowy form sat up in bed. "Thought I heard Kya?"

"She's here. Easier than trying to get her back to the island," she informed him. "I'm getting her a shirt or something…"

Rummaging through a drawer, Lin picked out a workout tunic long enough to cover Kya. She returned to the living room to find Kya already curling up under the blanket and snuggling up to the pillow.

"Here," she said, offering the tunic. Kya accepted it and Lin left her to it.

When she re-entered the bedroom, she felt a touch on her arm and started.

"Sorry, " Tenzin said, apparently having decided to get up and out of bed. Lin stepped into him.

"It's okay." Spirits, he felt wonderful, defined muscle and warmth beneath the palm on his chest. She surrendered to the impulse and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Judging by the way he immediately licked into her mouth, he was far from objecting.

Upon pausing for breath, he remarked, "You taste like honey and wood smoke."

"That would be the whiskey, Tez," Lin said. He hummed and reunited their lips, seeking another taste. He backed her against the wall while his hands slid to cradle her head. Relishing the increased contact, Lin twined her arms about him. His fingers searched through her hair. After a moment, her hair clip clattered onto the floor followed by hairpins. Smiling into their kiss, he made a happy sound and tenderly buried his hands in her hair.

Lin drew a leg up and, supported by him and the wall, hooked it around his, her heel resting just below the back of his knee. Tenzin took advantage of the created space and pressed further into her. Releasing her lips, he nuzzled at her jawline. Lin turned and tilted her head to give him easier access. Wisps of scent, sandalwood faded to vanilla, enticed him to nip and nibble.

Bang! Bang! Something hammered on the other side of the wall.

"Stop that!" shouted Kya.

They froze.

"Kya," Tenzin groaned. Lin cursed, her body alight and demanding more touch, more skin, and more movement. Instead, she got Tenzin withdrawing.

Breathing heavy, Lin slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. "I don't suppose we could shove her in a cab and send her to a hotel?"

"Too late for that," he lamented, "and as much as I'd like - " his left hand sneaked through a split in her skirt to stroke her stocking-covered thigh "- to continue this…my sister is in the next room."

"Then stop touching me," hissed Lin. He looked down at his hand in surprise - Lin wondered if he'd realized where it had drifted - and yanked it away.

"Right." He retreated two steps. "Better?"

"No, not really," she muttered before slipping by him. Pausing to grab pajamas from the dresser, she went into the bathroom. She didn't feel like being cruel and undressing in the bedroom.

With a focused thought, silver bracelets floated from her wrists to her jewelry box. Her silver pendant necklace followed. Lin undid the dress' hooks and buttons, hanging it over the shower rod. Stockings followed, rolled down and off her legs. A cool washcloth helped soothe her flushed skin as she cleansed the evidence of hours of dancing from her skin. Then she scrubbed the kohl from her eyes and trace remnants of rouge from her lips.

Tugging on pajamas, she exited the bedroom to find Tenzin stretched out on the bed, covers bundled at the foot of the bed. Even in the dim moonlight from the windows, she could distinguish a distinct tenting of his pants. The lascivious part of her mind wheedled,  _it would be so easy…one knee on either side of those hips…you could be quiet…would feel so good…_

_Kya,_  Lin reminded herself,  _Kya's in the next room._

_Challenge!_  roared her libido. It knew her well.  _Not let Kya know!_

_No!_ insisted her rational mind despite her body shuddering at the provoking idea.  _It wouldn't work. Tenzin is too loud. So shut up!_

Raising his head off the pillow, Tenzin asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah - just wishing Kya was…somewhere else," she confessed.

He gave her a rueful grin. "I do too."

"I can see that."

Flopping his head back down onto his pillow, Tenzin scooted to his side of the bed.

As Lin climbed in, the bed creaked. It grumbled and creaked several more times as she got settled.

"I do not need to hear that! Stop now!" Kya yelled.

Tenzin and Lin looked at each other, at the wall, and back at each other. Smirks blossomed on their faces. Lin reached to turn on the lamp.

Kya sighed with relief when the sounds from the bedroom stopped. There were some things to which a big sister didn't need to be witness. She lay down, closed her eyes, and prepared to drift into dreamland where, preferably, the charming helmsman she'd met earlier would be waiting.

A minute later, her eyes snapped open. That had definitely been a moan.

The moans continued - interspersed with creaks and groans. Faint lamplight spilled from beneath the bedroom door. Kya jerked her pillow out from under her head and tried to use it to muffle the sounds.

Her ploy failed.

As did a screech of "Trying to sleep here!"

Instead, she got a breathy "oh Tenzin" at least a full octave above Lin's normal range. Low growling succeeded it. If she'd been a firebender, the wall would have been ashes from the strength of her glare.

"Oh come on!" she bellowed, only to be ignored.

Or rather, Lin wailed, "Yes, don't stop!"

Kicking off her blanket, Kya stumbled into the kitchen. She felt for the faucet and turned on the tap for a few seconds.

With a sizable ball of water in her hand, Kya stomped across the living room, twitching at the ongoing noises. She banged on the door.

"If you two don't cut it out, I'm coming in!"

No cessation occurred.

Clapping her eyes shut, and her arm across her eyes, Kya gripped the doorknob. She steeled herself and opened the door.

Quiet fell instantly.

"I'm giving you five seconds to cover up," she informed them. "Five, four, three, two, one."

She heard no rustling which was concerning. Warily, Kya lowered her arm and opened her eyes.

Tenzin and Lin sat on the end of their bed - clad in their pyjamas and thoroughly unruffled.

"Yes, Kya?" asked Tenzin.

"Can we help you?" Lin inquired.

"I - you - what -" Kya sputtered "- you - but I - I hate you both!" She flung the water at them, whirled about, and fled, slamming the door.

Tenzin and Lin collapsed into laughter. Lin slid off the bed and onto the floor while Tenzin doubled over his knees.

"Did - did you see - her face?" gasped Lin. She tucked wet hair behind her ears.

Laughing too hard to speak, Tenzin managed to nod.

When their sides ached, their chuckles subsided bit by bit until they were simply smiling at each other. Lin crossed her arms atop his knees, not minding that his pants were spotted with damp patches.

"Ten points to us?" she suggested.

"Twenty points," Tenzin countered.

"Done."

Using blasts of air, Tenzin dried the sheets and coverlet. He performed the same trick on the two of them. They soon had the bed remade, lamp off, and themselves spooning under the covers.

"Lin?" murmured Tenzin.

"Hmm?"

"When Kya leaves, will you let me take you out dancing and wear that dress?"

"Yes…provided it ends up on the floor afterwards."

"I think I can safely promise that," he assured her. Contented with the prospect, they slept.


	9. Takes a Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lin's definition of family has always been a bit unconventional. Most people consider blood and marriage to make a family. Lin prefers to think of family as those who care for you and those you care for.

_Part 1: Her Police Family_

Rabten started as a small hand tugged on the hem of his jacket. "What the - " He twisted and looked down to see the five-year-old daughter of his boss staring up at him.

"Do you know where my Mommy is?" she asked plaintively. "She hasn't come back."

"I'm sure she'll be back soon," Rabten replied. "Aren't you supposed to stay in her office?" He gestured towards the open door at the rear of the squadroom. Most of the other officers were done for the day, leaving empty desks the child had walked by to get to his.

"Yes," whispered Lin. She looked at the floor. Her hands covered her stomach. In a near whine, she babbled, "But I was hungry, she promised she'd be back when the little hand touched the nine, but she's not, and my stomach hurts."

According to Rabten's watch, the little hand had touched the nine half an hour ago. No wonder the tyke's stomach rumbled. No wonder she'd gotten hungry enough to disobey and go searching for her mother.

"Ah, well, we'll have to do something about that." He glanced over at his partner, Arata, who had paused in skimming their suspect's financial reports to watch.

"Do you like stuffed buns?" asked Arata, leaning forward to see Lin better as her crown was on level with the desktop.

Vigorously nodding, Lin answered, "Yes!"

"I'll pop across to Chin-Sun's," Arata offered. "They should still be open." He stood, tugging on his coat.

"Wait!" exclaimed Lin. She rummaged in her pockets. Triumphantly, she held up a ten yuan bill. "Here!"

Darting round the desks, she presented it to Arata. Arata smiled and waved it away.

"Ah no, kid, it's my treat." Lin regarded him dubiously. Arata reassured her, "In fact, I insist. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Lin accepted this. "Thanks."

"My pleasure." Arata tipped his head to her and departed.

When the girl's eyes darted around, as if trying to decide if she should wait there or in her mom's office, Rabten asked, "Do you know how to play Avatar-High?"

"Yes," she replied, coming back to his side. "Bumi showed me."

Rabten snagged a deck of cards from his bottom drawer.

"Why don't we play?" he suggested. He eyed her short stature. "Although it might be easier if you sat on my desk."

Lin raised her arms; Rabten gripped her under her armpits and lifted her onto the desktop. He shuffled the cards.

"Do you remember what is low and high?" he asked, wanting to check that she did indeed know the rules.

"One is low, ten is high, bender is better than ten, Avatar is best," explained Lin. "Best card wins and takes the cards."

Splitting the deck into two piles of twenty-four cards, Rabten asked, "Right. Cards go face down and we turn them over. Highest card wins. What if you get the same number?"

"Four cards, best last one wins." Lin took her cards, placing them in her lap.

"You've got it. Ready?"

"Ready?"

Rabten laid down a Earth eight. Lin put down a Water five. Rabten took both cards. The next hand went to Lin with a Fire nine winning over a Water four. The third saw two sixes, Air and Earth, which meant they both added four more, face down, and turned over the last. Lin's showed a Fire Avatar, beating Rabten's Earthbender.

When Arata returned, a white paper sack in one hand, Lin had accumulated three quarters of the deck. The scent of freshly baked bread diverted her attention. Her eyes fixated on the bag. Her stomach gurgled, sparking smiles on Arata's and Rabten's faces.

"Napkin first," ordered Arata, handing her one. Lin abandoned her cards to the desktop and spread the napkin across her lap. He took out a bun and offered it to her. "Hold it with both hands."

"Thank you," Lin exclaimed. Gripping the bun in both hands, Lin bit into it. The bun had been stuffed with sausage and greens, making Rabten's mouth water at the aroma.

"Here, catch!" called Arata. Rabten managed not to drop the bun his partner tossed.

"Thanks," he said, raising the bun in a salute. Arata selected a bun for himself and took a bite.

Through a mouthful, Arata said, "I figured we'd both want one too."

"Don't talk with your mouth full. I doubt the Chief would appreciate us teaching her daughter bad habits," Rabten teased his partner. Arata was about to make a rude gesture, but glanced at Lin, reconsidered, and settled for glaring instead.

He probably needn't have bothered. Lin's only concern was devouring her bun as fast as possible without choking.

After she gobbled the final bite of the bun, she requested, "More, please?"

"You're a polite little thing, aren't you?" remarked Arata. He gave her a second. Lin ate this one more decorously, bites turning to nibbles at the halfway mark. She finished and wiped her hands with the napkin.

"Please can we play more?" she asked. Turning to Arata, she declared, "You can play too."

"Sure, spirits knows I'm not getting anywhere on these bank statements," replied Arata. He cleared off a space at the front of his desk, where his met Rabten's. "What are you playing?"

"Avatar-High." Lin cocked her head. "You do know how to play?"

"I do. Deal me in."

Rabten gathered the cards, shuffled, and dealt sixteen to each. "Watch out for her, Rata, she was winning."

…

"Do you mind if we wrapped this up tomorrow, Chief? I promised the missus I would try my very best to be home in time to put the kids to bed."

Toph froze at her head warden's words.

"Shit," she hissed.

"Sorry? Chief? Did I -"

"No, no, go ahead, I - fucky fuck - yeah, we'll finish this tomorrow first thing, oh fuck, yeah, get out of here." With that, Toph about-faced and hustled towards the nearest stairway. She'd been discussing new intake procedures and changes to the suspect processing center, and she'd lost track of time. Feeling the watch tucked into her belt, she cursed. It was past seven thirty.

"Damn it, damn damn damn damnit. You're an idiot," she muttered as she climbed two flights. "An empty-headed buffoon."

As she barrelled into the squadroom, she drew up short at an "Avatar-high!"

Lin had exclaimed it upon Rabten beating Arata with a Water Avatar after a tie between them.

"Lin?" called out Toph, pinpointing the direction from which the voice had emanated and striding that way. She scolded, "What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to stay in my office?"

Lin went quiet and still.

"Chief, she - " started Rabten.

"Sht! Lin?"

Lin gulped, but raised her chin and announced, "I was hungry. You didn't come back. You broke your promise. You forgot about me."

"I didn't forget - "

"Don't lie!" cried Lin shrilly. Her eyes accused her mother, lips tight and brows narrowing. "You forgot." Her small hands clutched at the fabric of her dress.

Toph rested her hands on Lin's shoulders. She confessed, "You're right. I did. I'm sorry."

"She had a couple of stuffed buns from Chin-sun's, Chief," Rabten ventured.

"Thanks, and thanks for watching her," Toph replied. She took a step back from Lin. "How about you hop down, Lin, and we go on home?"

"Okay," Lin murmured, sulkily. Addressing Rabten and Arata, her tone shifted to be pleasant. "Thank you for playing with me."

"You're quite welcome," said Rabten.

"It was fun," Arata said. "Goodnight, Lin."

Sliding off the desk, Lin replied, "Goodnight."

Toph extended a hand; Lin hesitated for the briefest moment before accepting it. Toph's expression saddened as she registered the lag.

"Goodnight, Chief," said Rabten, pretending he had seen nothing. A second goodnight sounded from Arata.

"Goodnight, boys," replied Toph.

They watched the Chief and her daughter leave, Lin's posture tense while Toph's footsteps lacked their normal strength.

"Makes you think twice, doesn't it?" remarked Arata.

"About?"

"Having kids with this job."

"Yeah, I guess it does," admitted Rabten. "Anyhow, back to work."

* * *

_Part 2 Aang_

"It is my earnest desire...no...It is my sincerest hope….no….it is my hopeful expectation…gah!" Aang slashed a line through the sentence. He looked with despair upon his paper, littered as it was with similar cross-outs.

"Uncle Aang?" A dark-haired head peeked around the open door frame of his office, pale jade eyes bright as she stepped into full view. She held a set of workbooks and a slate in her arms.

"Lin, come in," invited Aang, his face relaxing into a warm smile. Due to a school holiday and Toph working, the eight-year-old had been spending the day on the island. "Come save me from my own bad writing."

"What are you writing?"

"A letter to King Kuei." He rubbed the back of his head. "Somehow, it's always much easier for me to talk than write." Catching sight of her impish expression, he waggled a finger. "Not a word from you."

"I wasn't going to say anything," she declared in a far too innocent tone.

"Uhuh. Hey, why aren't you out playing with Tenzin and Kya?" he asked.

"It's their afternoon lesson, Uncle, and history is boring," she informed him. "And, I've got my own lessons to do."

Aang checked the clock. Sure enough the hands marked twelve minutes past two, two and three o'clock being his children's hours with their various tutors.

"So it is and so you do. Would you like to do them in here?"

Lin nodded. "If it's okay?"

"Or course it is."

Lin arranged herself on the settee, a workbook open on the cushion to her right while the slate sat on her lap. Producing chalk, pencil, and eraser from her tunic pockets, she stuck the pencil behind her ear, the eraser on the workbook. The chalk stayed in her hand.

Aang resumed wrestling with his letter. Lin's chalk tap-scratched across the board interspersed with the swoosh of the eraser and the soft scrape of her pencil as she copied the answers into the workbook.

He kept smiling as he listened to Lin muttering instructions to herself. "Carry the one, put down the three, five and two is seven plus one is eight, bring the two straight down, two hundred and eighty three…"

Three crumpled and tossed letter attempts later, Aang moaned, "I give up. I think you're doing better than me, Lin. How many problems do you have left?"

Lin counted. "Just seven."

"What about after that?"

"Vocabulary and reading," she replied as she wrote the next problem, 137 +52, onto the slate.

Aang hmmed. "Let me know if there's anything I can help with." He fished around in the drawers for a missive from Zuko he knew had come in yesterday, but that he'd managed to misplace since. He could have sworn he'd stuck it in the second drawer…

"Done!" declared Lin. She swept the slate clean. Setting the board, eraser, and chalk on the side table, she picked up the second workbook.

"What now?" asked Aang.

"Vocabulary." Flipping to the correct page, Lin held up the workbook.

"What do you have to do?"

"Learn the words and what they mean." She stared at the pages for a couple of minutes. It looked rather boring to Aang.

He rose and came to sit beside her. Lin looked up.

"Maybe we can make this more interesting? May I see the workbook?"

Lin handed it to him. The page listed twenty words and their definitions. Aang considered for a minute before suggesting, "Why don't I give you a word and you tell me what you think it means?"

"Okay. Go."

"Let's start with an easy one - tough?"

"Strong," answered Lin.

"Correct! How would you use it?"

Lin grinned. "My mom is tough."

"Very tough. Okay...next is cough?"

"Like this." Lin coughed.

"Good. Use it?"

"I cough when I'm sick."

"Trough?"

"It's a - a -" Lin mimed a long rectangle with her hands. "It's a box - with water for ostrich-horses. Ostrich-horses drink from troughs."

"How about verify?"

Lin's face scrunched up in confusion. She shook her head. "Don't know."

"It's okay. Verify means to prove something, to make sure something is true. Like…if a suspect tells your mom he couldn't have robbed a store because he was...hmm...because he was at his job, your mom would have to verify his story. She'd have to make sure he was telling the truth," Aang explained. "Makes sense?"

"Yeah. What's next?"

"Phonograph."

"It's the thing that plays discs with the - " Lin shaped her hands to mimic the phonograph's horn. "The horn thingy."

"Can you use the word?"

"I put the disc on the phonograph."

"Good. Another hard one - classify?"

Lin shrugged.

"It means to sort into groups with each group different for some reason."

"Sentence?" prompted Lin.

"Let's see...ah...okay, okay, I got it. We can classify everyone in Republic City by their bending. So first, if they can bend, they're benders. If they can't, they're nonbenders. And then benders, you do it by what kind of benders - Earthbenders, Waterbenders, Firebenders, Airbenders. That's classifying."

"Oh, okay. What if I wanted to classify - " Lin said the word carefully " -something else, like animals?"

"Well, some animals are bugs, some are mammals, some are birds, you can classify them like that."

"Next word please?"

They worked their way through the rest of the list: telegraph, rough, enough, laugh, answer, analyze, justify, borough, triumph, valid, solve, observe, study, graph, and model.

Then Aang listened as Lin read aloud a short story about spiders. At the end, Aang read the questions - "Why do spiders build webs? How do they build webs? Do all spiders build webs?" - and Lin answered him, often rereading parts of the story to find the answer.

As they finished, Tenzin knocked on the doorframe.

"Hi," called Lin.

"Hello, buddy. Done with lessons?" asked Aang.

"Yes. Mom said Lin and I could help make pies for dessert." Lin plucked her reading workbook from Aang and gathered up the rest of her belongings.

"Thanks Uncle Aang," she offered, hurrying for the door. She and Tenzin vanished in a twinkling.

* * *

_Part 3 Sokka_

Sokka added a final dash of hot sauce to the stir-fry. He tossed it several times. Swinging the pan up and around to the serving dish, he tilted the pan and shook it to slide the food into the dish.

"Lin!" he shouted. "Dinner's ready!"

A distant, "Coming!" answered him. Sokka questioned if her voice hadn't been slightly strained, slightly subdued. She'd been reticent the entire walk to his house from her school; he hadn't been able to coax more than a dozen words from her. Upon arrival, she'd secluded herself in her room, claiming homework.

Safeguarding his hands with dishtowels, Sokka carried the stir-fry to the table in the cozy nook off the kitchen. He heard the sound of water running in the hall bathroom, no doubt as Lin washed her hands. She entered the kitchen as he took down plates.

Lin pulled open the silverware drawer, and collected chopsticks. Chopsticks and plates placed, Sokka handed Lin glasses from an upper cabinet before taking a pitcher of juice from the icebox. Sokka snagged a couple of napkins to complete the table.

During dinner, Sokka again attempted to draw Lin into conversation. He asked about her classes, her friends, her music lessons, and only received monosyllabic answers. They finished eating in silence. Lin left a third of her serving on her plate.

Sokka removed the dishes and cups to the sink. As he reached for the spigot, Lin spoke in clear, yet trembling voice.

"Am I a bastard?"

Sokk withdrew his hand. He shifted to find Lin fixated on him from her chair. Her green eyes were wide, her mouth downturned to the corners.

Am I a bastard? The words burned poisonous yellow on the inside of his skull. Am I a bastard?

Striding to the side of her chair, he knelt and took her hands in his.

"My girl, where did you hear that word?" he questioned, as gentle as he could although anger flared in the background.

"At school," Lin murmured.

"Did someone -" Sokka closed his eyes for a second to suppress rage at the thought. "Did someone call you a bastard?"

"Yes."

"One of other kids?"

"Yes."

Sokka sighed and squeezed her hands. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

Lin mumbled, "We were...we're supposed to go to the history museum next week. And Miss Mieko, she's the new teacher, was asking everyone to see if their mother might come and help out...and I said I knew Mom couldn't...and Miss Mieko said maybe my father could instead...and one of the other kids said I was a bastard. Someone else asked what a bastard was and he said it was someone whose mother never married their father and that I didn't have a father at all. Miss Mieko got mad and said it was a bad word."

"Did the boy who said it get punished?"

"No." Sokka bit his tongue so as not to curse.

"Did your teacher make him apologize?"

"Yes."

"Well, good," declared Sokka. "He shouldn't have used that word."

"But he was right, wasn't he?" Lin demanded. "Mom's never been married. I don't have a father."

"Lin, everyone has a father, somewhere. You know that," replied Sokka, trying to sidestep her question.

"He didn't want me," she said, voice breaking. "I've never...I don't even know what he looks like. Mom won't even talk about him." She sniffed. "So I am a bastard. It's a bad thing, isn't it?"

Sokka rose up to gather her into his arms. He whispered fiercely, "No, my girl, don't you dare think of yourself as anything bad. Don't you dare."

He felt small fingers cling to his shirt. "Your father was a feather-brained idiot not to want to be in your life. As for the rest...some people believe it's wrong to have children without being married. I think they're wrong, way beyond wrong, way way way beyond wrong, so wrong they must also think the ocean is red. Okay?"

"Okay," ventured Lin.

"Okay." He kept holding her until Lin herself drew back. She only disengaged enough to have them nose to nose. Sokka tugged a napkin from the table for her use. "Your father may not be here, but I am and your Uncle Aang and my sister and Tenzin and Bumi and Kya are too. You are very loved, my girl. You know that right?"

Lin nodded. "I know."

An idea sparked. Sokka grinned and pronounced, "About the field-trip, I have had a brilliant notion. Absolutely brilliant. What if I went?"

"You?"

"Why not? You think I can't hold my own against a few kids?" he said. He flicked his gaze right, then left, and lowered his voice in a conspiratorial manner. "And when they get things wrong about Aang and all of that, and they always get things wrong, we can make sure to correct them so they get it right next time. What do you say?"

"Yes, I say yes," answered Lin.

"I'll write a note for your teacher tomorrow." Patting her knee, he suggested, "Why don't you go clean up a bit while I see if I can't find something sweet for us to share?"

"Chocolate?" Lin asked, her face brightening with hope.

"Maybe," drawled Sokka. Lin slipped from the chair, beelining for the bathroom.

Watching her go, Sokka resolved to put a line or two in his letter strongly expressing his expectation that the word 'bastard' would not be permitted in the classroom again and, if it was used, it would be punished. He also decided to remind Lin's teacher that not all families consisted of mother, father, and children.

…

A week later, Miss Mieko and the museum docent conceded control of the field-trip to Sokka within the first fifteen minutes. The students followed him like turtle-ducks, hanging on his every word. Lin suddenly became the most envied child in class. She preened with pride when they declared her uncle "amazing" and "sensational" and "really funny."

* * *

_Part 4 Katara_

Saturday began auspiciously enough. Lin enjoyed sleeping in. She lounged in bed for a good hour after waking, reading a novel just for amusement's sake. A luxuriously long shower followed. As her mother had to work, she anticipated having the house to herself.

She headed for the kitchen, picturing bacon and eggs. Yet, somehow, the sight of raw meat in the icebox wrinkled her nose and had her stomach churning. She switched to buttered toast; jam produced the same reaction as bacon.

With her favorite disc spinning on the phonograph, Lin sat on the edge of the porch overlooking the house's central garden space. Legs outstretched with heels resting on the dirt, Lin hummed along to disc as she manipulated the chunk of cast iron in her hands.

The iron morphed into a rough-hewn bird, then a badgermole, next a ship with two masts. Lin coaxed sails from the masts, pinching and drawing out the metal.

Every so often, she altered her position: bending her legs, crossing them at the knee, going into lotus, canting her body to put more weight on her left butt cheek or her right, stretching out completely on her stomach. Nothing felt comfortable.

Lin became aware of a dull ache at the base of her spine. She massaged it. No effect. She twisted, trying to loosen those muscles. No effect. Maybe she had slept wrong. Lin resolved to ignore it and focus on her metalbending.

Her concentration faltered as the pain deepened and spread, now enveloping her entire lower abdomen. Ditching her project, she went to the bathroom.

At the sight of a dark red splotch on the seat of her pants, Lin paled and cursed, "Flaming bison shit."

Her breathing quickened. "Okay...okay...what do I do?" Mind whirling, pain throbbing and cramping, Lin tried to recall what she'd heard other girls did with this.

"Rags," she finally remembered. "Rags. Kitchen."

With the rags in place, Lin changed into a clean pair of underwear and pants. She clenched her teeth against the pain, fighting the urge to curl into a ball on the floor.

"What now?" she hissed. She needed...she wanted...she couldn't go to her Mom...Aunt Katara.

"Cab. Ferry. Island," Lin told herself. On any other day, she could walk to the docks, but not today. Hunched over, she collected her coinpurse from her room, and turned off the phonograph in the living room. Taking her key from its hook, she forced her body to straighten and walked out the door. She almost forgot to lock the door behind her.

Lin plodded the two blocks to the nearest cabstand. Luckily, one cabby waited there.

"Air Temple Island ferry, please," Lin managed. The cabby leapt to open the door.

"Right, miss." He peered at her. "Are you all right, miss? You don't look so good."

"I'm okay. Just try not to go over any bumps," replied Lin as she clambered inside the hansom cab.

"Will do." He sprung onto his perch and clicked his tongue at his ostrich-horse. "Yee-ho, my lady."

As the ostrich-horse quickened into a brisk walk, Lin was heartily glad she had only toast on her stomach. The ride lasted several minutes, during which time Lin counted to seven on each inhale and exhale in an attempt to control the nausea.

The cab jolted to a halt. Lin didn't wait for the man to open the door; she wanted out of the confined space. Handing the cabman his fare, she said, "Thanks," and trudged towards the ferry.

Recognized by the ferry's conductor, she skipped the line of tourists and boarded the ferry. She ignored their chatter when they came abroad, leaning against a mast. She glared when a few dared to stare at her. They left her alone otherwise.

At Air Temple Island's quay, a pair of acolytes waited. Lin delayed disembarking until they had started talking to the tourists who had alighted first. She slipped past the group, and hastened up and along the path to the Temple. Throughout the trek, she gnawed her bottom lip.

Lin found Katara in the herb garden adjacent to the family quarters.

"Lin, this is a surprise," called Katara, waving and smiling, when she espied Lin approaching. As Lin came close, and Katara could clearly see Lin's face, she sobered. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"No...I…"

Scissors in one hand, Katara placed two fingers beneath Lin's chin. Katara noticed the stain in Lin's face and the way she held her arms tight to her body.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Katara asked gently. "What's wrong?"

"I...I...I got my cycle." Their eyes met. Tears welled in Lin's. "I know...the rags...but...is it supposed to hurt...it hurts."

Katara shifted to wrap an arm around Lin's shoulders. "Sometimes it does. This is your first, it might get better. Now, let's get you into bed."

She assisted Lin into the family quarters and to Lin's room. Pulling back the covers, Katara eased Lin into bed.

"Lay however is most comfortable," she directed. Lin curled on her right side, knees at a right angle to her torso. Katara stroked Lin's hair. "I'll be back with some things which should help."

While she was gone, Lin let a few tears soak into her pillow. She hurt.

Katara returned carrying a tray. On it rested a hot water bottle and a cup of tea. She set the tray on the bedside table.

"Here we are, hot water bottle for down there," said Katara, tucking it against Lin's abdomen. Lin gasped with relief as the pain lessened.

"Drink this. It'll help." Katara held out the teacup; she didn't let go as Lin added her hand and sipped. When half the tea had been drunk, Katara said, "That should do it. I'm going to check you, just to be sure everything is okay."

"It's not okay," replied Lin curtly. "How could this be okay?"

"I'm afraid it's part of being a woman, Lin." Uncapping her flask, Katara hovered water over Lin's lower back.

Lin groaned. "It sucks." The water glowed for a few seconds. "That did nothing."

"It did. I don't feel anything wrong."

"What? You can't - healing doesn't work?" Lin asked incredulously.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. Your cycles are a normal bodily function." Katara bent the water into the flask. She perched on the bed and rubbed Lin's back.

"Fucking stupid," Lin muttered. She winced. "Sorry, Aunt."

"You're allowed," Katara told her. "The tea will help. It'll dull the pain and I added a couple of sleeping drops. I'm hoping you can sleep through the worst of it."

"Can you...could you stay? Please? And keep doing that?" Lin pleaded.

"Yes, of course I can. You just close your eyes and try to relax and sleep," answered Katara. Lin started to obey, but her eyes flew open a second later.

Lin blurted, "My Mom...I...I forgot to let her know...when she gets home...if I'm not there…"

"I'll take care of it. I'll send Tenzin to her."

"No, don't," Lin protested. "I don't want him to...to know."

"He doesn't have to. I'll tell him to tell Toph you decided to spend the day, and possibly the night, here. Is that good enough?"

"I guess so. But he's going to ask why I'm here and why I'm in bed."

"I'll let you in on the customary excuse we women use - stomach ache." Katara grinned. "Men can't handle the truth. It scares them."

"Why? They're not the ones in pain and bleeding and being told that's normal? And that it's going to keep happening every damned month?"

"Because, whatever they like to believe, they are, as your mother would say, wimps," declared Katara. "Now, close your eyes again, and try to sleep." This time, Lin succeeded in falling asleep.


	10. Jade and Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the midst of a tavern brawl, a young girl from Republic City's worst borough is surprised by a Tinny who helps put it down. Examples matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Inspired by Heather Dale's "One of Us" and Tamora Pierce's Beka Cooper series.

Nia crawled beneath the table as the fighting erupted. Bottles shattered against the walls, sending shards of glass flying. Tankards dumped ale on bodies and floor and tables. Fists smacked flesh.

She draw her knees to her chest, tugging her threadbare skirt over them. She ducked her head.

_"Fetch your stinking father, Nia. Face Eater take him, he's at the cursed pub again."_

Nia had obeyed her mother. Hugging herself, she had dashed along the cold streets to her father's favorite watering hole.

_"One more darling, one more, I promise."_

One more had turned into three, the shouting had began, and the brawl had broken out. Scooting backwards, Nia got her back to the wall against which the table sat. She curled into a ball. She pressed her hands to her ears and screwed her eyes shut.

Wood splintered and cracked. Yelps and curses hurtled through the air. Tables overturned. The smell of blood added to the sickening mix of drink, unwashed bodies, urine, and vomit.

"Wheeeeet!"

Whistles pierced the cacophony.

"Wheeeet!"

Uncovering one ear, Nia heard bodies slam into hard surfaces. After a few minutes, the racket died down enough for Nia to dare to creep to the edge of table to peer out. She squinted in the dim light.

Four Tinnies, all unknowns to Nia, wielded batons with vigor. They thumped brawlers, dealing with one after another, sending them dazed or unconscious to the floor.

"Stay down!" barked one Tinny at a dockhand whose muscles bulged as he started to push to his feet. Rough-faced, he outweighed the Tinny by a hundred pounds but the Tinny cast him a single, sharp glare. The Tinny growled, "Down."

The dockhand stayed down.

Another brawler snuck up behind the Tinny's fellow with a chair leg raised in hand. Lightning quick, the Tinny darted and slammed the baton into the brawler's stomach. The chair leg clattered to the floor. As the brawler wheezed, the Tinny twisted his arm behind his back and shoved him to the ground.

"Thanks!" shouted the fellow.

Seeing the other Tinnies dealing with the last two drunkards, the Nia's Tinny reached for a round case on his belt.

Nia crept forward, out from beneath the table, for a better look. Like a snake, a dark cable slid from the pouch to the Tinny's hand to the hands of the brawler. The cable knotted the brawler's hands together in the small of his back. Its other end still coiled about the Tinny's arm and extended into the pouch. The Tinny snapped the cable, cutting the improvised handcuffs from the rest.

 _"A metalbender,"_  thought Nia, watching transfixed as the Tinny repeated the process with other brawlers, forcing them to comply when necessary and checking for injuries along the way.  _"What's one of them doing here? In Ninth? Don't they all have plumb pickings in First?"_

As a rule, metalbenders belonged to the Chief's own squad and station - Police Headquarters in First Borough. They dealt with the triads and with those big crimes which crossed borough lines and with benders who got out-of-hand. They didn't stoop to bar brawls and street patrol in Ninth, the poorest and dirtiest borough of Republic City.

Yet, there could be no mistake. Here one of them was, neatly tripping someone who tried to run and crafting handcuffs for him.

"Oi! We got a kid."

Nia started, head wrenching up.

"Ow!" She had banged it on the table's edge.

"Sorry, lass, didn't mean to scare you," said the Tinny who had found her on his circuit of the baroom. Nia had been so focused on her metalbender Tinny she hadn't noticed him approach. Hand on her throbbing head, she shrank from the hand he extended, retreating back under the table.

"It's okay, lass, it's all over." He tried to reassure her. Despite a blackening eye, he smiled, "What's your name?"

"Nia," she whispered.

"Well, Nia, why don't you come out?" he asked gently. He backed off a couple of steps.

Nia waited a moment. When he didn't grow angry or try to drag her out, she crawled out and stood. Her legs shook; she had to cling to the table for support. The Tinny's smile broadened. Nia thought he might be rather jolly in some other place as his face wore the smile easy.

"There, now, Nia. How did you come to be in this mess? Are you hurt?" the Tinny asked. "Where are your folks?"

Nia tried to answer. Only a squeak emerged. She craned her head to the side, to see around the Tinny, hoping and not hoping to find her father as the other Tinnies gathered the brawlers into a group. Returning her gaze to the Tinny, she shrugged.

"Shy one, are you? Maybe…" The Tinny called over his shoulder, "Lin!"

Nia's Tinny, the metalbender, gave over his current catch to another and walked to them. As he stepped over senseless figures and among shattered cookware, Nia gasped. Her mouth formed an "O".

_"He's a she!"_

In the bad lighting and across the room, the Tinny had looked like any other Tinny, if a bit on the thin side. Up close, there was no mistaking the full lips, the curves of her cheekbones and brow, or the subtle definition of hips and breasts and legs, not wholly hidden by the boxy masculine cut of the uniform. As for her hair, it was tight-braided from the very crown and pinned to her skull.

"Well?" she demanded, voice steel. Her eyes, the green of pale jade, flicked to Nia and back to he who had called her.

"See if you can get her to talk," he suggested. "Name's Nia. She's shy."

The metalbender scowled. "Why is it that I'm always the one getting shouted for when there's a kid?"

"Because you're so good with them, Lin," said the Tinny blithely. Nia wondered how he didn't quail at the metalbender's obvious displeasure. He patted Nia's shoulder. To her, he said, "She don't bite. Not kids, anyways."

The man fled, leaving Nia staring at the woman Tinny. Under her breath, the metalbender threatened, "He's going to find spiders in his boots."

Turning to Nia, her expression softened somewhat. It wasn't kind, but it wasn't so fearsome.

"Nia, is it?"

Nia licked dry lips. She whispered, "Yes, ma'am."

"Are you hurt, Nia?"

"No, ma'am."

"Good." The woman Tinny nodded at the table behind Nia. "Hid under the table when the trouble started?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Your parents work here?"

Nia shook her head. The woman jerked a thumb towards the cluster of prisoners.

"One of them?" she guessed.

"Yes, ma'am," replied Nia, eyes on her toes. Her cheeks reddened with shame. "My Dad. Ma sent me to fetch him and I...he…"

"And he wanted another drink and you got caught in this," finished the Tinny. Her tone held no trace of pity or condemnation, only brisk matter-of-factness. Because of that, Nia found the wherewithal to raise her head.

"Yes, ma'am," Nia said.

"Where's home?"

"Bay Buildings," replied Nia. The woman nodded; Nia had named a complex a block and a half over westwards.

"If your dad hadn't already skipped out and gone home before we got here, then he's headed for a night in the cells. Whatever the case, the wagon will be here soon," said the Tinny. "After we get it loaded, my partner and I will be about our rounds. Since your place is on our way, we'll take you home."

"No, ma'am, I don't...a bother...I can go on my own," protested Nia.

"You're what - seven?" demanded the woman.

"Eight."

"Eight then. Either way, it's full dark. You're coming with us." The woman gestured to the table. "Take a seat. It won't be long." Nia's scrawny frame, which had caused her to underestimate the girl's age, prompted the woman to add, "Feel free to eat something if you're hungry."

"Yes ma'am." Nia sank onto a hard bench. By chance, a dish of potatoes had escaped destruction and Nia pulled them towards her. She began to eat as the metalbender returned to her comrades. For the next fifteen minutes, Nia didn't take her eyes from the woman Tinny as the Tinnies questioned the brawlers. She dropped a potato slice or two onto her skirt because of it, but she couldn't stop. Try as she might, Nia couldn't recall what the other Tinny had called her.

 _"A woman!"_  thought Nia, wonderingly.  _"And she's not doing nothing different than the men. She was just as good as any of them!"_

When the prisoners were loaded into the wagon, the woman beckoned to Nia. Nia hurried to her side. Her partner turned out to be the fellow who had first found Nia.

As they started out the door, the partner turned to Nia. He said, "Sorry, we didn't introduce ourselves. Officer Jizan -" he pointed at himself "- and Officer Lin. We switched routes with Qiang and Basu last week."

This explained why Nia hadn't recognized them on sight. Spirits knew she would have remembered hearing of a woman Tinny. Qiang and Basu had been the pair assigned to her part of Ninth.

"Coat?" asked Officer Lin of Nia, pausing in the entryway with its coat-hangers although the coats themselves had been flung to the floor. After Nia shook her head, she grabbed the smallest one in sight and handed it to the girl. She instructed, "Just bring it back tomorrow in the afternoon - when its warm."

Both officers wore layers of undershirt, tunic, and, jacket against the cold. Nia accepted coat with murmured thanks. It hung on her like a dress with sleeves several inches past her fingertips. She didn't care. Autumn brought chill winds at night.

On the walk to Nia's apartment, she kept quiet. She trotted along a step behind and between the pair. Jizan chattered idly, telling her about his favorite noodle maker and the lady he was courting. Officer Lin spoke little, but Nia didn't miss the way she walked thief-soft despite her boots or how her hand never left the handle of her baton. Her eyes didn't grow lazy either; they roved constantly in search of potential threats or wrongdoing. She ignored her partner's prattling, clearly listening for sounds beyond it.

They dropped Nia at her building's entrance. Jizan offered, "Goodnight, lass." Lin gave her only a nod.

"Goodnight, ma'am, sir," replied Nia. Rushing to the second-story landing's window, she watched them go until they faded into the night.

* * *

Fifteen years later, Nia climbed the steps to the stage. She remembered the years of struggling - studying by lamplight after caring for her young siblings, enduring the jeers and derision from those who still thought women unsuited for the job including some from her own family, running for miles to build her stamina, aching from the harsh hand-to-hand combat practices, and fighting to be seen as more than the 'poor girl from Ninth'.

She knew there were those in the crowd, attending the first academy graduation since Toph Beifong's passing, who questioned if the new Chief could uphold her mother's legacy. They whispered that Toph had been an oddity, an exception, a one in a million, and that the new Chief Beifong wasn't the war hero her mother had been. Rumors abounded of nepotism, of a position unearned, of too much expected of one too young and inexperienced.

"Congratulations, Officer Nia."

 _"Pale jade and steel,"_  Nia thought. She returned the Chief's grip with equal firmness.

"Thank you, sir."

The Chief showed no sign of recognition and Nia continued on across the stage.

Nia didn't mind.

She remembered the woman Tinny who had stopped a man a hundred pounds bigger and stronger with one glance and one word. She remembered the metalbender who had chosen to serve the poorest district with no glory or thanks to be had when she could have been with the most celebrated squad in the city. She remembered the policewoman who checked wounds even as she put on the makeshift handcuffs. She remembered the Officer Lin who had seen a undernourished girl fed and then safely home. Nia remembered  _her_.

 _"Let the doubters natter,"_  Nia challenged the naysayers. She smiled, spine straight and proud, and raised her chin. " _We'll show them."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes: A police officer is called "Tinny" in Republic City slang. It is derived from Toph's original core of officers, all or most of whom were metalbenders and wore armor habitually. This led to them being called Tinheads then Tinnies. As RC grew, RCPD couldn't maintain itself on solely metalbenders and added other benders and nonbenders until, by Lin's time of service, metalbenders are a minority. Because of their particular skills, metalbenders usually handle renegade benders and Triads across the city, but the everyday police work and patrols is done by the officers assigned to specific boroughs.
> 
> Credit goes to satomobile for the term. Thanks!


End file.
